Fire and Ice and Everything Nice
by Collegekid2006
Summary: The personal diary of Juliet O'Hara. TOP SECRET! DO NOT READ! THIS MEANS YOU!
1. Chapter 1

**November 25**

I love the first page of a brand new diary. It's like a fresh start. A new beginning.

I don't know how many notebooks I've filled in my life, but it's a lot. I've written down everything that's happened to me since I was twelve. Every zit, every date, every hope, and every dream.

Of course, I'm not twelve anymore.

And I don't have zits.

But I do still have hopes and dreams….

Are cops allowed to have hopes and dreams?

I hope so, because I don't think I can stop now.

**November 26**

Sometimes I hate my name.

Juliet.

Juliet.

Juliet.

Ugh.

Do you have any idea how hard it is to be taken seriously when all people want to do is crack Romeo jokes?

I guess being cute and blonde doesn't help, but that's not my fault. I didn't ask to be cute. Or blonde.

People just take one look at me and assume I'm nice. Or a doormat.

I'm not a doormat.

I'm not even that nice.

I kick puppies!

Ok…I kicked _a_ puppy. Once.

I was four, and I didn't kick him as much as accidentally step on his tail.

And I cried.

But, still. I'm not nice!

**November 27**

Thanksgiving is in two days. I really wanted to go home…but I have to work.

As my partner said, "Crime doesn't stop for turkey, O'Hara!" 

He's not bad, most of the time. My partner, that is. Carleton Lassiter.

He's kind of hard to describe. He's like Dirty Harry…but less dirty.

If you can picture that.

At least he's never made a lame Romeo joke.

Or any joke at all, actually.

I don't think the idea has ever occurred to him.

**November 28**

So, Gus is going home for Thanksgiving.

Everyone has somewhere to go.

Even Shawn, who is trying to get out of going to his Dad's.

"You've never had a Spencer Thanksgiving," he explained. "It's kind of like eating with the Mason family…except without the unified sense of purpose."

I'm not sure what that means….but it sounds like fun to me.

I guess I'll be here.

Maybe I'll buy a turkey frozen dinner.


	2. Chapter 2

**November ****29**

Undoubtedly, the most interesting holiday I've ever had.

Ever.

It started out badly. I fell for an obvious Rookie prank.

No one was working today. They must just tell the new kid they have to work, then leave them hanging while everyone else takes off. I figured it out pretty quickly when I came in and no one was at the station. By that point, however, I had nothing better to do. I had nowhere better to go, so I just caught up on paperwork.

Alone.

Shawn came by around noon.

"Where is everyone?" He asked, laughing because he had already figured it out.

The jerk.

"I had nothing to do with it. I swear!" He promised.

I believe him, but he's still a jerk.

"Then why are you even here?" I asked.

He shrugged and dropped a deli sandwich on my desk.

"I knew you weren't having turkey today. I thought you might want some."

He started to leave, but something stopped him.

"You have to get them back. You know that, right?"

"How?"

He sighed and plopped down in Detective Lassiter's chair, thinking hard. I've never seen him think so hard, actually.

Finally, we hatched a scheme.

A brilliant one.

They'll never see it coming. They still think I'm nice.

They'll never make that mistake again.

Shawn helped me set everything up before he left. As he was walking out the door, he asked,

"You don't want to go to dinner at my Dad's, do you? I couldn't get out of it. It's just the two of us, and odds are we won't both survive. Gus is usually the referee at these things…"

I didn't really want to go, to be honest. But I said I would.

I hadn't met Shawn's dad before, but the way he talks about him, I was expecting some sort of combination of Sherlock Holmes and Son of Sam.

He wasn't that bad, though. Maybe a little bit scary. But, really, how scary can someone be while wearing a Kiss the Cook apron and grilling steaks outside?

"I gave that to him," Shawn told me later. "He hates it, but once a year I can guilt him into wearing it."

I didn't ask about the steak on Thanksgiving, but I think there's a story there.

They were good, at least.

The corn was good, too.

I didn't try the toast…but it looked perfectly browned.

I guess that's the traditional Spencer Thanksgiving meal.

"Shawn went through a phase," Mr. Spencer told me. "Where all he would eat was toast. It was a long three years."

"That's just because you would burn everything else!" Shawn shot back. "Remember the first year you tried to cook a turkey? The fire department almost confiscated our oven!"

The whole dinner was like that; peppered with barbs and arguments.

It was fun.

Totally not like the Manson family at all.

The Addams Family, maybe…

Like I said, the most interesting Holiday I've ever had. 


	3. Chapter 3

**November 30**

Super glue can do amazing things.

For example, it can permanently adhere everyone in the department's staplers to their desks.

It also works on coffee mugs, pencil holders, three hole punches and paper weights. Basically, anything you leave out on your desk can be glued down by someone with enough time, and enough glue, on their hands.

I don't think they'll ever make the mistake of thinking I'm nice again.

**December 1**

I brought up the idea of doing an office Secret Santa.

No one went for it.

Something about a debacle.

How do you debacle a Secret Santa?

I don't care. I'll convince them.

There are times when being cute and blonde is an advantage.

I heard Chief Vick and Detective Lassiter talking about an undercover assignment. They're looking to send someone to infiltrate...something. I don't know what.

But it's going to be me.

They just don't know it yet.

**December 2**

I knew I'd convince them about the Secret Santa. I just put everyone's name in a Santa hat and walked around the station handing them out until everyone had one. No one stopped me. No one dared.

Even Shawn and Gus are in on it. They were there on a case, so they're in.

Actually, I drew Gus' name.

I wonder what I should get him.

I wonder who got my name.

I hope it's not Detective Lassiter. I don't need a shoe shine kit.

**December 3**

I got the undercover assignment!

It's…

Well, it's not going to be as fun as I thought.

I'm infiltrating...are you ready for this?

A library.

Seriously.

A library.

Who knew a library could be a hotbed?

I don't have all the details yet, and I probably shouldn't be talking about it…but what can it hurt? It's a library.

Maybe they're finally starting to take me seriously.

Or maybe this is payback for the super glue…


	4. Chapter 4

**December 4 **

Definitely revenge.

At least, I think it is.

I'm supposed to pose as a grad student researching my thesis because several semi-rare first editions have gone missing and the…library boss guy…whatever you call him….thinks someone is stealing them.

Sounds like a set-up, right? Especially when you consider that none of them are particularly valuable, and the library markings on them would decrease the value even more.

This is totally revenge.

Not that it really matters. That's what I spent my day doing. And it looks like it's what I'll be doing for a while.

I went to the Academy for this? Sitting around a library all day watching…nothing?

**December 5 **

What am I going to get Gus for the secret Santa?

Not that I've had time to think about it. I've been too busy researching the mating habits of the tsetse fly for my thesis.

Surprisingly, it's more interesting than the recon on the library staff.

Not much, though.

Actually, there may be more to this case than I thought. It turns out there is someone else undercover, though I don't think the Chief knows about it.

I was alone in the stacks, and he sidled up behind me so quietly that I didn't even hear him until he whispered in my ear.

"I have a question."

I immediately recognized the voice and spun around.

"Do these glasses make me look smart? Or rakish? I was going for rakish, but now I'm thinking they scream 'virgin'. What do you think, as an objective female viewer?"

For a moment I was speechless. What was he doing there? And why was he wearing those ridiculous glasses?

Before I could say anything, he continued.

"I'm Bartleby Hobbit. The new part-time book-shelver. That's my official title, at least, but I think when I print my business cards I'll call myself something like Captain Part-Time Book-Shelver. Maybe Part-Time Book-Shelver Extraordinaire. That's definitely rakish, right? Or maybe I just don't understand the meaning of the word rakish."

He leaned in close, his lips inches from my ears.

"Can't you feel it, Jules? This place has an uber creepy aurora. These librarians are like something out of _Invasion of the Body Snatchers_. There's something going on here. You don't get to have all the fun going undercover. Oh, and no one's going to buy your story about writing a thesis when you're spending all your time in the John Grisham section. Get your head in the game, O'Hara!"

For once, I think he's way off. I couldn't find anything even remotely interesting, much less sinister, going on.

But I have to admit. The glasses were rakish.


	5. Chapter 5

**December 6 **

That was a close one.

Our covers…both our covers…almost got blown.

Shawn's dad came to the library.

I was talking to…Bartleby Hobbit…at the Book Return counter when he suddenly dropped to the floor like he'd been shot and started to army-crawl away.

Not the strangest thing he's ever done.

Not even the Top 6.

But it did make more sense when I turned around saw Mr. Spencer approaching the counter with an armful of books to return. I wanted to army crawl away, too, but it was too late.

He already saw me.

"You're Shawn's friend, right?" He asked.

I didn't know what to say, so I just nodded.

"Have you seen him lately?"

"Nope." I answered quickly.

Too quickly, I think.

He looked at me funny.

"Well, if you see him, tell him I'm looking for him. I think he's avoiding my calls. He borrowed my melon-baller and now he won't give it back."

He waited for a response, but I was still too shocked at seeing him to say anything.

"Okay…"

He looked at me funny again.

"Just tell him I want my melon-baller."

Then he left.

Bartleby popped back up a few seconds later.

"Your dad wants his melon-baller," I told him.

"Yeah. I know."

"Why—"

"I just like to hear him say melon-baller."

**December 7 **

I have to admit Bartleby was right about one thing.

The librarians around here are weird.

_Body-Snatchers _weird.

There's the old lady with the rhinestone glasses on a chain who can't seem to see three inches in front of her face.

I don't think she's a suspect.

Then there's the creepy guy with greasy hair who doesn't seem to understand the Dewey Decimal System (seriously, who shelves Chricton next to Grisham? And who can't tell the difference between and 599.08 and a 599.8?)

I may have just cracked the case there. He probably just mis-shelved the missing first editions.

I should check the picture book section.

**December 8 **

Wow.

No one ever tried to kill me before I joined the Force.

Or before I met Bartleby Hobbit.

Maybe that should tell me something.

As I was leaving the library, a green car tried to run me down. I didn't even see it until it was too late.

I could have gotten out of the way myself.

I didn't need anyone to "save" me.

Bartleby didn't have to tackle me.

But it's a darn good thing he did. 


	6. Chapter 6

**December 10 **

Did I mention I hate Bartleby?

He's taking this whole "saving" me thing way too far.

When I woke up this morning, _How To Save a Life _wasplaying on the radio.

It was dedicated to me.

By "A friend…who saved your life."

He was wearing a T-shirt that said "I Can Be Your Hero, Baby" across the front.

He had a hero sandwich for lunch.

He hummed _Wind Beneath My Wings_ every time he walked by, pushing that stupid squeaky book cart.

I wish he just let the car hit me. It would've been far less painful.

And when did he find time to make that T-shirt, anyway?

**December 11 **

No one tried to kill me today.

Always a bonus.

Though, of course, I'm no closer to cracking this case than I was at the beginning.

And I still don't know who tried to run me over.

Or what to get Gus.

I'm thinking…maybe a book.

I don't know. What does he like besides big words and drugs?

I should ask Shawn.

Of course, he wasn't at the library today.

I wonder where he is.

Not that I care. I totally don't.

**December 12 **

Something is going on. I don't know what…but something's wrong.

Shawn wasn't at the library again today.

I asked around as discreetly as I could, but no one's heard from him. They said if he doesn't come in tomorrow, he may as well not come in at all.

He wouldn't blow off an undercover job. Not one that involved glasses and weird names.

I called Gus when I got home. I even called his dad. No one's seen him, not since Monday night. As far as I can tell, after he left the library Monday night, he disappeared.

He also never returned the melon-baller.

Gus has a key to his apartment, so we went by to check it out. Just to make sure. Shawn wasn't there, but the place was a wreck. I thought it looked like a robbery, but Gus said it always looks like that.

So he's a slob...

But where is he?


	7. Chapter 7

**December 13 **

I did the one thing an Undercover is never supposed to do.

I went to the station.

I had to! I'm in way over my head now. But Detective Lassiter just stared at me blankly when I told him Shawn was missing.

"I don't understand the problem."

"No one has seen him for days!"

Still nothing.

Like he just didn't get the concept.

"So?"

"We have to find him!" I insisted.

He just leaned back in his chair, scowling his usual "I'm The Head Detective So You Had Better Listen To Me Or Else!" scowl.

"See, you lost me again, O'Hara. Do you understand how pleasant the last few days have been around here without Spencer? He's not pestering me, he's not sticking his nose in my cases, and he's not filling my coffee mug, or my holster, with Sour Patch Kids. Why in the name of everything good in Holy in this world would I want to go find him when it took me this long to get rid of him?"

"Because you're a nice guy?"

"No, I'm not. Actually, I'm kind of a cold-hearted bastard."

Okay, so flattery wasn't going to work…

"Because…I asked you to?" I tried again.

"Umm..no."

Detective Lassiter turned back to his computer and began to type. 

I only had one shot left.

"Because he'd come look for you."

That did it.

Still not sure why…

**December 14 **

Have you ever heard the too many cooks spoil the soup?

Well, too many detectives ruin my case!

Shawn's Dad called Detective Lassiter today. Naturally, he's worried about Shawn, so he wants in on the investigation.

Which means, they're working together.

Which means, I'm out.

"Nothing personal, O'Hara…"

Yeah, right.

It's okay, though, because I know something neither of them know.

I'm so not out!

Shawn saved me the other night when someone tried to run me down.

That had something to do with the library case.

Which now has something to do with this.

I just don't know what yet.

But I am going to find out.

Shawn's not the only one who knows _How to Save a Life. _


	8. Chapter 8

**December 15**

"A missing person case is, first and foremost, a race against time. The first twenty-four hours are the most important. After that, leads dry up, witnesses leave or begin to forget what they saw, and the trail runs cold. The odds of finding the missing party alive begin to decrease exponentially with each passing hour."

I remember when I read that passage in the Academy for the first time. I remember the knot I got in my stomach, thinking about some hypothetical child being separated from its parents. I remember almost throwing up thinking about the parents, frantic and completely helpless.

I remembering praying I would never have to make the call that we found a body.

I remember because I'm saying the same prayer again.

I keep coming back to this passage. I've read it a thousand times over the last few days. I don't know why. It certainly isn't comforting.

During the first twenty-four hours of this investigation, I was wondering what to buy Gus for Christmas.

I was also hating Shawn. I can't even remember why now.

**December 16**

"Get your head in the game, O'Hara!"

I keep hearing him chide me.

"Get your head in the game, O'Hara!"

I'm trying!

But I keep wondering….was it my fault?

Someone from that library tried to run me down.

That means I must have blown my cover. Why else would they want me dead? (Unless I had a really big overdue fine I didn't know about)

Following this train of thought, when Shawn saved me from the car, he blew his cover, too. The driver knew we knew each other, knew we were working together.

There's no other explanation.

There's no other way to look at this.

If he dies…I got him killed.

Except, I didn't blow my cover. I couldn't have! I didn't mess up. I know I didn't! I was too careful.

Well, that and Shawn wouldn't let me mess up.

_He_ was too careful, not me.

I almost messed up a few times. I almost slipped, almost said something that would give us away. But every time I even got close, Shawn would just look at me, and I would stop myself.

He didn't even have to say anything. I just knew what he was thinking, what he was telling me.

What are you supposed to do when the one person who keeps you from screwing up isn't there to make sure you don't screw up?

**December 17**

It's 2 AM, and I just had a brilliant thought!

Shawn's disappearance makes very little sense if I start with the assumption that my cover was blown. There aren't any leads.

But…what if I start with the assumption that it wasn't?

What if I start with the assumption that I had them all fooled.

Then, there is only one person in that library who knew who I was.

Hence, there is only one person who could possibly want me dead (barring unpaid fines. I checked, I don't have any).

The Library Boss-Guy.

He knew about me, but not Shawn.

That is, until Shawn saved me from his car.

The only question is: Why would the Library-Boss Guy report stolen books and then try to run down the person the police sent to find them?


	9. Chapter 9

**December 18 **

John Grisham.

It all comes down to John Grisham.

How ironic is that?

John Grisham almost got me killed.

First thing this morning, I went to the library. The librarians all smiled and waved at me, like every morning, but today I ignored them.

Today, I was on a mission.

I marched past them and went right into the Library Boss Guy's office. (The door said his name is Herman Smythe. Seriously. Herman Smythe.)

It was perfect. He was sitting at his desk engrossed in some sort of paperwork, so he didn't even see me enter. He didn't see me until I slammed the door.

That took him by surprise.

He even looked a little scared.

I liked it.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, turning a shade or two paler.

"What did you do with Bartleby Hobbit?"

Seriously, I thought he was going to throw up.

I'm glad he didn't. That's just gross.

The whole story came spilling out pretty quickly after that, though.

He had been stealing the first editions. He had somehow lined up some collectors who were willing to pay more than they were worth. Since they weren't individually all that valuable, he didn't think anyone would notice when they went missing.

But someone did.

The librarians noticed the missing books and brought them to his attention. They were still hidden in his office, so he couldn't risk taking them home now. He also couldn't risk keeping them in his office or putting them back on the shelf. Someone might see him. So, he found some old John Grisham jackets and put the first editions in them, then put those back on the library shelves. He even mis-shelved them next to Michael Chrichton, just to make sure no one would check them out by mistake.

But now, Herman Smythe (come on! Who name their child Herman Smythe? It just seems cruel somehow…) had another problem. The librarians were insisting he go to the police. He couldn't tell them no.

That's where I came in.

I was on the case, and when he saw me hanging around the Grisham section, he was convinced I was on to him. So, he tried to run me down to shut me up.

And that's when he discovered Shawn was on the case, too.

He killed him Monday night. Ran him over with his car, like he tried to do to me.

At least, he thought Shawn was dead. But when he got to the harbor to dump his body, the emergency latch on the inside of the trunk had been released.

Shawn was gone.

But he had been hit, and he had been unconscious when he was put in the trunk. He couldn't have gotten far. He must have crawled off somewhere, trying to find help.

So, the question is…

Where is Shawn now? 

And is he still alive?


	10. Chapter 10

**December 19**

Someone named Bartleby Hobbit was admitted to Holy Cross Hospital on Monday night after a car accident.

He was never released, but he did disappear the next morning.

He didn't turn up in our original investigation because we were looking for either a John Doe or Shawn Spencer. It didn't occur to me until today to check under the name Bartleby Hobbit.

So, he's alive.

And he didn't bother to tell anyone.

He didn't bother to tell me.

The jerk.

Did I mention I hate him?

**December 20**

I hate him.

I really do.

When I came home tonight, there he was. Sitting on my couch, grinning like a moron. Like nothing in the world was wrong.

"Hey, Jules."

I didn't smile back.

"You're a jerk! I thought you were dead!"

"Then where are your mourning clothes? Where's the tight black skirt and stiletto heels? Not even a black armband? Come on, Jules! What kind of grief is that?"

"Stiletto heels?"

"Hey, I got hit by a car for you. Don't I even get one fantasy?"

God, I hate myself for this…but I actually laughed.

"Where the hell have you been?" I demanded, collapsing into a chair.

"Oh, you know. Around. Laying low."

"Laying low?"

He just shrugged.

"The dude did try to kill me. I figured it was a good time to take a vacation. You know."

"Then why are you here now?"

He tossed a box across the room and stood up to leave.

"I drew your name in the Secret Santa. Feel free to open it whenever. Except the little box inside. You have to wait until Christmas for that one."

He crossed to the door, then glanced behind him on his way out. 

"Oh, and Gus wants Glory for his PSP."

Then he was gone.

I opened the first box. It was his "I Can Be Your Hero, Baby" T-shirt.

Attached to it was a note.

"Jules—you're totally my hero"

But what's in the little box?

**December 21**

Something weird happened.

Well, two weird things.

First, I went to give Gus his present.

Glory for his PSP.

He was as mad at Shawn as I was.

"Did he tell you where he was?" He asked.

"Yeah," I shook my head. "He's a jerk."

"Yeah, he is!" Gus snorted. "Nothing new there. But, come on! Like you needed him to follow you! Like you needed him to watch your back!"

"What?" I asked, not sure I heard him right.

But I knew I heard him right.

"He didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

He started to backpedal quickly.

"Nothing. Never mind. I didn't say anything. Thanks for the movie. I….gotta go."

Weird, right?

But it doesn't stop there. Get this! Buzz gave me a present today.

He said he drew my name in the Secret Santa.

**December 22**

It's driving me crazy!

What is in the little box?

Three days until I can finally open it…

**December 25**

Juliet Spencer

Juliet O'Hara-Spencer

Juliet Spencer-O'Hara

Shawn O'Hara

Yeah…I think I like that one the best.


End file.
